This Wretch?
by Redandblackcatta
Summary: This is a Grelliam story inspired by the fact that William called Grell a wretch to Sebastian during the sixth episode of the first series. I was just watching it and thought that Grell and William could really use some love after what happened. It's about Grell trying to fix their relationship after Madam Red, and it does have Eric and Alan. Problems with writing fixed. Enjoy! :)


**Author's Note: Okay, so I was watching episode six of the anime again, and then something William said inspired this. It's just a bit of randomness, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler, nor any of the characters, though I wish I did. There would be so much more Grelliam, for starters!**

This Wretch?

"This wretch?" Grell cried, wincing as she struggled upright. William had dragged her all the way from the street on which he had found her to their shared house, not seeming to care about her hair, or her stomach, where he had dropped her beloved chainsaw. In fact, it seemed as if he was so furious that he no longer cared about her. At all. "This wretch?"

"Indeed," William responded, pushing his glasses up, not bothering to look at her as he headed towards the kitchen. The boringly dull kitchen that William had designed. Grell had had plans to paint it red, or at least add a splash of colour, but she wasn't sure where they stood at this point in time. To her, it seemed almost like their relationship was over.

"But _why_ , William?" Grell demanded, still sitting on the floor. Blood was caked to her face, and some was still trickling out of her split lip and bloody nose. She knew that her face hurt, could feel it as a dull throbbing, but the pain of her injuries was put aside so that she could focus on William for the time being. Obviously she had known that William would be angry, but not this angry. "It's not as if you care about a few prostitutes. Or humans, for that matter. Why are you so angry?"

William still hadn't returned from the kitchen, but his voice echoed through into the hallway, causing Grell's heart to squeeze itself into a tiny little ball in her chest, trying to protect itself. She loved William with all of her being – they were engaged to be married, for Death's sake – but maybe what he said was true. Maybe… maybe he didn't want her anymore.

"I am fed up with having to handle you, Sutcliff." The redhead sucked her breath in. The stoic Shinigami only ever called her by her surname when they were alone if he was extraordinarily angry. "Why you can't just follow the rules and behave is beyond me."

"Because it's boring, Willy-darling," Whined the redhead, finally gathering enough energy to stand. Hobbling over to the kitchen, Grell let out a small growl as her heels caused a large twinge in her ankle. Furiously, she grabbed the heels of them and tugged them off, throwing them into a corner. They bounced off of the wall, leaving a scuff mark, before rebounding and hitting the base of William's lamp with a satisfying tinging noise. Normally, Grell would have smiled and laughed, before going over to kiss William on the cheek and apologise for disturbing him, but now wasn't the time. Besides, she wasn't sure if her face, or her heart, would let her smile from the pain they were both under.

The pain was a dull throbbing, barely noticeable as it was shoved aside so that she could get into the truth of the matter. She needed to know what was really going through William's head before she ran away to cry or to moan and yell at the pain that was clawing at her all over. So, determined to do just that, Grell hobbled into the kitchen and plunked herself down on a chair, noticing that the second she entered the room, William's shoulders tensed up even further than they had been.

"Being bored is not a valid excuse for the amount of trouble you have caused, Sutcliff." William growled, going over to an overhead cupboard and retrieving a mug from it, before slamming it down on the side in such a way that you could hear the frustration, but the sound was barely louder than his own quiet words. Even whilst worrying, Grell was impressed. Then again, she was always impressed by William. "You have put me under a great deal of stress, and I am very disappointed in you."

"Disappointed in me?" Grell asked, disbelievingly. "Disappointed? Like you were my father and I was your child?"

"In much the same way, yes." Responded William, remorselessly. "Do you have any idea to the disruption you have caused to the work team?"

Looking down, Grell tried to blink back tears. It was never about them, was it? It was always about work. Work took up William's entire life, and Grell was honestly surprised that she had ever got any of it at all. When he had finally caved to her constant pestering and her continuous declarations of love, Grell had been so excited, even more so when, two years later, William had got down on one knee in a café and, in the middle of the day, in front of many of their colleagues, asked her to marry him. She had been unable to resist, but now… now she was wondering why he had asked her? Was it just so that he had some sort of control over her? She desperately hoped not.

"Let me tell you what you've done, Sutcliff. Silence is not going to get you out of this one." William finally turned to face her, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms, the kettle boiling behind him. Clearly, Grell had been taking too long to reply, but she didn't regret it. From the look on his face, one wrong word and he would have gone into a flying rage. His eyebrows were lowered in anger, and his green eyes appeared to be glowing with annoyance. His whole being screamed furious. Shrinking back, Grell waited for William to continue. "Not only have you broken multiple rules, Sutcliff, but you have also disrupted Knox's learning. I have had to find him a new senior for the many weeks that you have been missing. Furthermore, your being absent has put a lot of strain on Mr Humphries, so much so that he had another attack, worse than the last one. He has been hospitalised for two days now."

Grell's eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth in shock. She bit back the cry of pain that the leather of her gloves caused to writhe up her throat when she touched her still stinging lip. Never had she wanted Alan to be hurt. He was very clever, she knew, and rather focused on work, but he was sweet, and feisty, and he didn't judge her when out of work. The worst thing he ever said about her was that she had crooked glasses. This made him seem like an angel to her. Furthermore, Eric would be furious with her, too.

"To add to this," William continued, his voice clipped and sharp. "Your being off has meant that I could not give Slingby the time to visit Humphries in the hospital, so he is now annoyed at both you and I. Frankly, I believe his resent towards you is well deserved, Sutcliff."

"And to you?" Grell stuttered, tapping her index fingers together and waiting for the blow that was to come in William's words. "Don't you think that was deserved?"

"Why should I be blamed for your shortcomings, Sutcliff?"

"We are going to be married," Sheepishly, Grell tested the waters, hoping that William wouldn't break that relationship away. If he replied positively now, then she knew she was safe, if he didn't reply, it could go one of two ways. If he said they weren't, then she knew exactly where she stood.

"Marriage is hardly an excuse." Turning away from her and reaching for the kettle, William poured out the tea into a teapot that had already been set up when she had entered the room, waiting for the tea leaves to spread throughout the water and give it a flavour and warmth. "I do not control you, no matter what you believe about engagement, Sutcliff. You are a person as much as the next, and I believe that it is your shortcomings that have led us to this situation."

Grell leaned back and glared at William, wondering what he meant by shortcomings. He kept using that word, shortcomings, and it was starting to get to Grell. Was he trying to indirectly tell her that he didn't care for her, and that he would prefer it if she left? Was he telling her that he wished she would change? Was he comparing her to someone else? The redhead didn't know, and it terrified her.

"However, I suppose some of this could have come through my own shortcomings." William was still facing away from her, hands pressed flat to the counter and his gaze fixed on a point outside of the window. He looked very tired, leaving Grell to wish she wasn't in so much trouble that he would stand to have her near him. At this point in time, it was an unlikely happening, so she stayed put. "You, I have heard, certainly had fun with that woman."

"Madam Red?" Shocked, Grell's eyes widened, before narrowing, trying to locate what it was that was nagging in her memory. Finally she hit upon it, eyes widening, tears coming to her eyes as she realised what William was implying.

"If that is the woman whom you murdered tonight, Sutcliff, then indeed."

"And… what is it that you think happened?" She had taken to tapping her index fingers together again, her shark teeth worrying at her lip. It hurt, but that was good. The pain helped her clear her head, helped her focus on the matter at hand, and not the tears that were rapidly blurring her vision.

"I think that you kissed her," Matter-of-factly, William finally picked up the teapot and poured the steaming liquid into the cup through the strainer, the tea leaves collecting on the metal grid attached to the lip of the cup. A heady, herbal scent flooded the room. "And before you try to deny it, Sutcliff, I did happen to have a very clear view."

"I wasn't going to deny it," Grell's voice was small, broken and raw. She had hoped that William would never have had to have found out about this, had hoped that she could keep it her little, regretful secret that she buried so deep inside of her that it never saw the light of day. It wasn't like she loved Madam Red – she wasn't even attracted to her in that way – but she had been missing William so strongly that day, and had got a little drunk to combat it, and the kindness the red woman had showed her, saying that she understood missing a loved one, it had just made Grell think of William, and she had been unable to help herself. Neither had spoken of it after, and neither of them thought it was anything more than what it was – a mistake, and one that they didn't plan on repeating. Shifting in her seat, Grell wondered how she would explain it to William briefly. Her face was truly starting to ache, and she did need to tend to the wounds. "I was having a bad day. I needed a distraction."

Eyes flying wide and teeth stabbing into her lips in surprise, Grell realised what she had said and tried to scrabble back with her words, telling William that that had not been what she had meant at all. His eyes had darkened, and she had clenched the back of the chair so very tightly, knowing her fingers would be white underneath her gloves. Promising him that she had only said that because she was struggling for words and she really needed to sort her face out. The blood had dried to her skin now, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to talk without red pieces flaking off and onto the floor, marring William's tidy tiles with her own imperfect blood.

"If she was but a distraction, Sutcliff, then how am I to believe that I am anything but a distraction?" Murmured William, almost as if he were talking to himself. Before Grell could scrabble to answer and reassure him that he was the furthest thing from a distraction, and instead what she based her life around, the centre of her world, the angry Reaper continued to speak. "Now, if you are waiting to tend to your wounds, don't let me keep you. I have overtime because of you, and should therefore be returning here for three in the morning."

He checked the clock on the wall, before sighing, glaring at it, and turning back to face the redhead. "Make that four. Should you wish to stay here tonight, Sutcliff, you will be sleeping on the couch. I will not have you in the same bed as me when you carry the revolting stench of that demon, and neither will I have you around me when you have confirmed what I had suspected already – that I was nothing more than a distraction for you."

"Willy-darling," Grell began, trying to get him to stop. But before she was finished, he cut her off.

"You needn't argue with me, Sutcliff," he held up a hand, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, before pushing his glasses up once more. "I suppose it no longer really matters. Please, for both of our comforts, would you go back to your apartment tonight? I cannot be bothered to deal with the stress you will bring in the morning, and would rather come and talk to you when it would suit me. I do not want to disturb the neighbours because you cannot control your temper."

" _I_ can't control my temper?" Grell yelled, throwing herself to her feet. Ankles twinging, she winced, but refused to back down. As far as she could see, William was calling their relationship off. Yes, she had killed people, and yes, she had caused him a lot of trouble, but that was no reason to tell her to get out of his house, was it? It wasn't a reason to be told to get out of his life. It couldn't be, could it?

"No, Sutcliff," William glared at her with such ice in his eyes that she was forced to sit back down, a hand going to her heart, clutching at her bloody shirt as if to reassure her that she was in the real world, and that she wasn't caught in some nightmare. It wasn't working very well. "You can't. Now, if you would excuse me…"

With that, he walked out the room, his glare warning her not to follow him to the door like she always did, and place a kiss on his cheek. Instead, she was forced to sit on the chair and wait for the sound of the closing door, quiet like always, no matter how angry he was. Grell would have been impressed by his control, had it not been for the fact that his control seemed to be the very reason they were in this situation. She didn't understand, and he wasn't yelling his inner thoughts to her because he was too in control. Screaming, not caring what William had said about the neighbours, Grell pulled at her hair, before tearing her gloves off, ready to tear her ring off, too.

Pausing when she saw the beautiful ruby ring in the light, Grell admired it, feeling her heart break to look at it. Tears rolled down her cheeks, stinging in her grazes, and before long, the pain of it brought Grell back and away from the beautiful day she had been imagining, instead slamming her into reality mercilessly. Screaming and cursing once more, the redheaded Reaper reached out and tore the ring off, throwing it to the floor and listening as it clinked against the immaculate tiles and rolled away somewhere. She didn't bother to check where it landed.

Limping out of the room, Grell considered stopping to retrieve her heels, but then remembered what they had done to her ankles before. Baring her teeth at them, tears still leaving reddish tracks down her cheeks where they mingled with the blood, she decided to leave them for William to find. It wasn't like he was going to care, and it gave her one last chance to see him before the trial, which she knew was going to happen. He would have to return her shoes to her, out of courtesy if nothing else.

Wincing at the cold that leached through her stockings and into the soles of her feet, Grell limped home, hair falling lank and bloody down her back, lacking all of its usual shine and body. Its vibrancy had vanished, leaving it a dull colour, nothing like the blood red shock that it usually was. Her newly acquired coat hung from her elbows, dragging along the ground, and her chainsaw… well, that was still at William's, where she left it in the hall. She wondered if it was worth turning round to get it, but then realised that she genuinely couldn't be bothered. Somewhere inside of her, her spark of love for everything had gone out.

Vaguely, Grell realised that her fingers were freezing, and that she was hurting all over. Deciding to give up on going to her apartment, she slumped down onto the street. It wasn't like she would die from the cold, anyway. She would just be in need of a cup of tea and a good fire, even if it started snowing while she slept. Besides, she didn't have the key to her apartment. That was in her other coat pocket and she had left that back at the scene where she had fought with Sebastian. She didn't dare go back there now. She didn't want her face destroyed even more than it already was. Pain was already surrounding her senses, threatening to make it go dark and peacefully black. Between Sebastian's beating and William's landing on her head, she was finally no longer able to keep awake, so she sank down into the darkness and let it take her.

…..

Finally back into his house at four, as he had promised Grell, William paused to listen. It seemed that Grell had heeded his warning and gone back to her apartment for the night. He was absolutely furious, and knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back from having a yelling match with the flamboyant Shinigami should she come too near to him. He would talk to her in the morning, he knew, and they would sort the whole mess out.

Slowly, almost staggering from his exhaustion, William made it to the living room and blinked in confusion. Grell's shoes were still sitting in his living room, underneath the lamp that they hit every day, annoying him to no end. Now, they just worried him. Where was Grell? She wasn't in the house, he would have been able to hear her, even when she was sleeping, and she wasn't anywhere outside. Where would she go where she could leave her shoes behind? Sighing, William gathered them up and placed them by the door, before returning to the kitchen.

Peering around, he noticed that the tea that he had made for Grell to sooth her had not been drunk, and he wondered why exactly she had left it. Surely she would have realised that he hadn't made it for him when he left straight after completing it. Sighing, he poured it down the sink. There was no point in keeping it; the tea had gone cold.

Placing the cup back on the side, knowing that he would do the washing up in the morning before he went to see Grell, he turned around to face the room. Seeing Grell's gloves on the floor and frowning in annoyance, he picked the black leather patches up and placed them on the table, before stepping back.

He hissed. Something had dug into his foot, but as far as he was aware, there was nothing on the floor. Having taken his shoes off at the door, his feet were vulnerable. Clenching his teeth, he sat down and pulled his sock off, wincing when he saw blood. What had Grell done now? He wondered if it was some of the broken glass from the redhead's glasses, and bit down on his lip. Guilt flooded him for sending her outside when her glasses were broken, but it turned to dread and horror when he finally spotted what it was that had caused the pain to shoot up his leg from his foot. It was her ring.

Dropping down to the ground as quickly as he could, William scooped it up and clutched it, eyes widening in horror. No matter what he had said that day, no matter how angry he was, he hadn't wanted to lose the redhead, but now it seemed like he had. Even if he was just a distraction for Grell, he would prefer being that than nothing at all to her. She had kissed Madam Red for a distraction, so he had felt jealous. He had just wanted Grell all to himself, and now he had lost her. Who was he to stand in her way? Who was he to dim the bright flame that was her? Shaking his head, he quickly padded towards the hallway, slipping his feet into his shoes and throwing the door open, no longer tired. Finding Grell was his top priority. It was certainly more important than sleep.

…

When Grell woke, she found herself to be on a comfortable sofa, and it was warm. She couldn't quite make out any details, but she was certain that it wasn't a building she recognised. Her apartment was bright red, and the walls here were papered in a cream, flowery wallpaper. This couldn't be William's house either, then. His walls were just plain, nothing like this strangely floral place.

Sitting up, Grell groaned, before glancing down. She was wearing a different shirt and a pair of trousers that were way too big for her, and her hair was damp and tied back in a braid. Lifting her shirt, she saw that a massive bruise had spread over her washboard stomach, black and ominous, like a black thundercloud. Poking at it gingerly, she hissed, before drawing her hand back and clenching her teeth.

"I wouldnae wan' to do tha' if I were yer," A gruff voice sounded from behind her, and Grell whipped her head round, her long braid falling over her shoulder from the speed of the action. Picking it up, she started fiddling with it, lowering her eyes to the ground, a faint blush coming to her cheeks. "Tha's one hell of a bruise tha' yer've go'."

Nodding, Grell looked back up again, hoping she was looking into Eric's eyes. She knew she was looking at his face, at least, but she couldn't quiet locate his eyes.

"Did you bring me in?" She asked quietly, flopping back down on the bed as Eric came towards her. From his face, she couldn't tell if he was angry or not, but she wasn't taking any chances.

"Aye," He told her, before flopping down casually into the chair across from her and snatching up a book, before opening it. Hearing pages being turned, Grell stared around the room idly for a few minutes, feeling the rising need to cry and to do something burning through her veins, making her tap her foot against the arm of the sofa. Eric growled, and she stopped. It wasn't long before she was humming, though. "Are yer gonnae do tha' all nigh'?"

"Sorry," she murmured, before struggling to sit up again. It hurt like hell, but she wasn't going to be defeated by what was possibly a few broken ribs, if the pain whenever she breathed told her anything. "And I'm sorry about what I did, too."

Looking down, she felt tears come to her eyes. "I didn't mean for Alan to… well, you know. I'm sorry my being off meant that you couldn't go to see him, either. I didn't think. I just…"

"No, yer didn'." Eric growled, snapping the book shut and tossing it to the side. Wincing at his comment, Grell allowed herself to fall back down into the cushions again, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye. "Of course yer didn'. Because yer Grell Sutcliff and yer can do whatever yer wan' and the rest of us have ter pay fer yer actions."

"I'm sorry," Whispered Grell, hands linking together, shocking her when she couldn't feel the band of metal pressing into her fingers. She had been so used to wearing the engagement ring that now it didn't feel right to be rid of it. "I really am. If I'd have known I would cause this much trouble I wouldn't have… But… I'm not…"

"Yer no' wha', Grell?" Eric just sounded tired now, as if he was fed up with having to deal with the redhead, and Grell felt her heart break a little more. She was used to being unwanted by most, but Ronald, Alan, Eric and William were people who had stuck by her no matter what before. Now, they were all angry at her, and she was alone once more. It was a scary thing to realise, she thought, that you were all alone in a world where no-one liked you.

"I'm not entirely healthy," she whispered, reaching up and tapping her head with a manicured, scarlet nail, "up here. I just… I saw Angelina murder those prostitutes for the thing that they had. They had a blessing, Eric. A blessing. And they just threw it away like it was so much dirt. And I was so angry at them. So very, _very_ angry."

"Wha' are yer talking abou', Grell?" Eric just sounded confused now, which Grell supposed was better than tired, but only by a little bit.

"They could have _children_ , Eric," Clenching her teeth and glaring at the room in general, Grell just dug her fingers into her legs and grinned at the pain it caused. "They could have children and I can't. They didn't want children and _I did_. So did Angelina. So they had to be _punished_. They had everything that I wanted, and they were _throwing it away_. So why not get rid of something else precious for them, huh?"

"Because, Grell," Eric sighed, standing up and going over to the mantelpiece. "People ge' hur' by yer actions, and it's no' our fault tha' yer unable ter have kids."

"I know," Grell whispered, bowing her head, looking up only when Eric moved to stand beside her and blocked out the little light that she had. The light was dim, being thrown around the room by a few candles, but by little else. "I won't be doing it again. You can trust me on that."

"Why?" Eric asked, handing her a pair of glasses. Wrapping her fingers around them, she looked up in confusion. "Yer's are broken." He explained, letting go of the spare silver pair. "Those are mine from when I was in the academy. It's no' red, bu' it's better than nothin'."

"Nothing is what I was expecting," Murmured Grell, slipping them onto her face and blinking as the world swam into better focus. It wasn't perfect, but at least she could see the expressions on Eric's face now, even if she knew a headache was likely to arise from the ever-so-off prescription. "So thank you."

"Why won' yer be doin' it again, Grell?" Pressed Eric, treading back over to the chair he had been in before and slouching down in it. He was clearly tired, but caring for her for someone else's sake. Grell hadn't asked if Alan was out of the hospital, but from the way Eric was acting, she could only presume he was.

"Because if you do something like that, it only ends up coming back to hurt you," Tiredly, Grell responded, wondering if she could feign exhaustion and pull the covers she was lying under over her head, instead of down from where her waist was. Eric was bound to ask her why she said that, anyway.

As if on cue, Eric questioned her.

Sighing, Grell answered him. "You and Alan, for starters. I honestly didn't think about you two, and I'm sorry you and your cutie-pie got hurt because of me. You're some of my only friends, and I couldn't bare it if you hated me."

Grell knew she was acting very differently from normal, but she couldn't help it. It was too hard for her to pretend to be happy and vain when all she wanted to do was curl up into a corner and cry. Shifting, she heard Eric sigh, and looked up at him.

"We don' hate yer, Grell," Looking directly at her, he offered her a tiny smile, which she found she couldn't return. "I jus' wanted ter hear an apology, an' Al's too nice ter be angry with yer fer anything."

"But William hates me."

"Wha' was tha'?" Clearly, Grell had spoken too quietly to be heard. Instead of answering Eric's question directly, however, she just held up her left hand, asking him if he noticed anything different about it.

She waited for him to respond, but he didn't, and eventually, Grell had no choice but to look at her hand herself, just to see if her ring really was missing, or if she had imagined it. But it was. There was a faint white band encircling her finger where the gold and ruby ring used to be. Maybe the fact that a faint line still remained proved that all was not lost, but Grell doubted it. Eyes watering, she stared at her finger so strongly that she was surprised it didn't catch fire. Then again, she supposed she deserved this punishment.

Sighing, she lowered her hand, tears falling back down her face, only to notice that Eric was staring at the floor.

"Her engagement ring's gone, you idiot," Both Shinigami jumped, only for Eric to spring to his feet and rush over to the new occupant of the room. "That's why she's hurting so badly. It wasn't ever going to be just about us, you know."

Grell thought that was a bit harsh, because she honestly did like Alan and Eric, but she also knew Alan was right. William was her whole world, so she could always cling to some semblance of reality when she had him, even if her friends were falling away around her. Bowing her head, she just whispered a quiet affirmation of what Alan had said, doubting she could be heard over the whispered conversation that the brunette and the blonde were having. Apparently, Alan shouldn't be out of bed. According to Eric, it was going to be bad for him. Alan, however, told Eric that he was perfectly capable of walking down the stairs and back up them when he had barely moved for days. He then gave Eric his feisty little glare, and the blonde dropped his case, the two of them going to sit on the chair, Alan on Eric's lap. Grell thought that was rather adding insult to injury towards her and William, but she didn't speak up.

"Yer mean," Eric finally turned to her again, focusing back on her predicament. "Tha' boss has dumped yer?"

"Worse than that," Grell mumbled. "He said he doesn't want to see me again. He said I have shortcomings. That means that he's annoyed that I can't give him everything that a man would be looking for in a relationship, doesn't it? Isabelle said so."

"Isabelle?" Alan asked, before his eyes lit up in understanding. "You mean Isabelle from General Affairs?" Grell nodded, her eyes watery. "She's had her eye on William for years, Grell. She wanted to break you and him apart because William is her 'dream man' apparently. Counting aside the fact that he goes for men – or, more specifically, a man – I would suppose."

"She… She was really doing that?" Horrified, Grell's voice reached no more than a whisper. "She wanted to break me and William apart through my desperation to be everything that a woman is for William? And I just… played straight into her hands?"

Alan and Eric could only knock, and Grell felt herself tear up again. What was wrong with her? She knew all the tricks in the book when it came to man-stealing, but now that she had found herself on the receiving end, she couldn't spot it for toffee. What sort of woman was she, if she couldn't even see what was going on? Now she was the only one to blame for the collapse of their relationship, because she, the woman who had practically written the book, had fallen for one of its tricks. Biting back a scream, the redhead dug her nails into her arm hard enough to draw blood, only drawing them away when she jumped and hissed, the doorbell having rung.

Looking between each other, Alan and Eric shrugged and then got up, going to open the door.

….

Looking at Grell was painful, William decided. Her face was swollen, grazed and red, and her beloved glasses were replaced with the dull student model that had been around when they had gone through the academy. Cuts shaped in a ring marred her pretty lips, and William knew her well enough to know that those had come from her own teeth. He also knew well enough that half of the swelling and grazing on her face had been his fault, from when he had jumped down onto her head.

Alan had said that he was fairly certain a few ribs had been broken, too. He hardly dared look at her stomach where he had dropped the chainsaw, not when he knew that he would only have exacerbated the problem. Her stomach was probably as dark as soot, the blotch spreading to proportions he would not have been comfortable with.

Furthermore, the pain in her eyes when she looked at him caused him to heat up in shame. He had caused this. He had caused her to feel so much pain. They remained staring at each other, and he only moved when Eric and Alan had finally taken it upon themselves to leave the room, saying they were heading to bed and that the two could stay or let themselves out as they pleased. William had merely nodded before turning back to Grell.

"What are you doing here?" Bitterly, Grell folded her arms, a few strands of her pretty hair falling out of her braid and landing over her face, just as it should have done. "Have you come to gloat?"

"Gloat?" Blinking once, William felt one of his brows raise in confusion. What was Grell talking about? "Why would I gloat? I came because we need to talk."

"Do we?" Bowing his head and sighing, trying not to get annoyed, William noticed that Grell was still playing with the area of skin that her ring used to be, and sighed. Trying to start a conversation a different way, William racked his brains, before remembering the bag he was holding. Carefully, he put it down beside her, hoping that she wouldn't hit him for getting too near.

"You left your shoes at my apartment."

"I know."

"And your gloves."

"I know."

"Grell-"

"Look, William," Snapped the redhead, causing William to flinch back a little. He was always wary around her when she sounded so volatile, knowing that she was a very good fighter even without her chainsaw, and though he had beaten her once, she often won in their fights. He had got lucky that time, and that was more to do with speed than with actual strength and skill. "Does this visit have a point other than to return these items? If not, you can leave. How did you find me, anyway?"

"I asked Undertaker." William replied quietly, reaching up to run a hand through her scarlet locks, before realising that the gesture would probably be unwanted, and instead returned it to his side, fumbling around a little, as if looking for something within his pocket. "He had been on the street outside, you see, and I thought that he may have some sort of idea where you were, seeing as this building is on the way to your home. I realised that you didn't have your keys, you see."

"Fascinating," Bit out Grell, clearly making an effort not to snap at him more than using a bit of mild sarcasm. "I suppose you're going to tell me the exact story of all the trouble you went through to climb up the few steps outside this building then, aren't you?"

"No," He promised her, standing up and brushing his trousers down. Grell looked up with tearful eyes, and he knew that she was silently hoping for him to say that their engagement was back on. And he would tell her that, but only if he was absolutely certain that they were good again. "I won't tell you that, because there is no story to tell. I came to find you, and I did. May I…?"

Gesturing to the sofa, William sat when Grell shuffled over a little, leaving him space to sit. She was so close it was almost an impossible task not to reach over and to kiss her, but he also knew that he couldn't just mess her around like that. They had to talk. And so talk they would.

"I apologise for being so furious," he began, turning slightly when he heard Grell suck her breath in. "I must admit that I was jealous of Madam Red, and have been feeling a lot of strain from working constant overtime. I am terribly glad that it is Friday night… or rather, Saturday morning now, and I am able to rest for a few days."

"Good for you," Grell responded, before leaning sideways, pressing against the back of the sofa. "But do you have any point to what you are saying, William?"

Feeling guilt lance through him from the use of his full name, William grabbed Grell's hand. She tried to pull hers back, but he wouldn't let go, so eventually she gave up, allowing her hand to be held, though not holding his back.

"I acting badly, and I apologise. I should have at least helped you to clean up before I started reprimanding you, and because I did not give myself time to cool down, I rather lost my head."

"What are you saying, William?" There was hope in Grell's voice, small and quiet, but there. William shook his head, wondering at how badly he had hurt Grell. Why had he ever thought it was a good idea to yell at his flamboyant, yet still very self-conscious and delicate redhead?

"I'm saying that I didn't mean that I didn't still want to marry you. I still want to, and very much so." He pulled her hand up and kissed it, her eyes as wide and round as saucers. Her cheeks were flushing, but the rest of her had gone pale, and she didn't quiet look like she believed what she was hearing. "I shouldn't have been so furious to learn that I'm just a distraction."

"What are you saying, William?" Grell's voice had gone hard, and she had finally managed to wrestle her hand away, but there was still an underlying tone of sadness to her voice. "Why do you think you're just a distraction?"

"Because I must be," Whispered the black haired man, eyes meeting hers dead on. "You're fascinating and exciting and beautiful, and I'm boring and angry and plain. You could do so much better than me, and I love you so much Grell. So very much. I don't mind having to share you, if it will make you happy. Anger only overtook me because, for a few months, I had been thinking that I wouldn't have to give you up to anyone else and that you would be all mine."

"You are a silly, silly man, Willy-darling," Giggled Grell, making William flinch. Her hand reached up and cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it, relaxing slowly, waiting to hear what she had to say as her piercing green eyes searched his, their depths glittering and beautiful, like an overflowing treasure chest. "Of course I love you. My William. I've loved you ever since that day that you beat me in a fight back on the roof when we were in the academy. I love you even now, a hundred years later. It's always you Willy-darling. It always has been, it always is, and it's always going to be you. I'm never going to love another, and I don't even feel attracted to another."

Sucking his breath in, William resisted the urge to swoop down and kiss her right there, both because it would surely hurt her, but also because he could see she still had more to say.

"Madam Red was a mistake. I was drunk, and I missed you, and I am sorry. I just… she was so kind, the way that you are kind, and I couldn't help but think of you and then… Neither of us wanted it, and we didn't take anything further. It never happened again. I promise."

"I believe you," And looking into the depths of her green eyes, William found that he really did, because there was nothing but truth hidden behind her sparkling pools.

"As for other men, I only like the idea of the painted in pretty, pretty red blood. So I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry. You're stuck with me, for eternity."

"Well," William breathed, leaning forwards to bury his nose into her hair and breathe her in, feeling as her breath caressed his neck while she breathed out. "All I have to say, then, Grell, is 'will you marry me'?"

"Oh, _darling_ ," A shark tooth grin was greeted by a large smile on William's face, which was tiny in comparison to Grell's small smile. His smiling ability was really only marginally better than that of a brick's. "I think you know the answer to that."

"Do I?" Raising one eyebrow, William brought her face closer to his, his eyes lidded as he watched the joy dance in Grell's.

"Yes," Grell shrieked earning a shout from Eric to 'shut the hell up. Some of us are tryin' to sleep, yer know?' "Of course I will. Oh, Willy- _darling_."

"Good," William replied, placing a quick peck to Grell's lips and pulling back when she winced. Reaching up, she tried to pull him back, but he shook his head, saying he was not going to cause his lady pain again that night. So instead, he just pulled her into his arms and held her, kissing the top of her head and breathing in her scent, almost falling asleep until he felt a sharp nail jab him in the arm.

"William, _darling_ ," she purred, a warm grin plastered on her face, though it held a threat of becoming teasing at a moment's notice. William supposed it was better than her manic one. "You don't happen to have the ring, do you?"

Embarrassment flooded William's senses, and he felt his cheeks warm, turning the faintest tinge of pink, so pale that it couldn't even be seen in the poor light of the room. Nodding, he fished into his pocket and pulled out the elegant band, slipping it onto his woman's finger. Grinning wider, Grell stared down at it, before her brows furrowed and she tapped a ruby nail against it.

"William, dear," she murmured, causing William to stare at the ring with her. "There's blood on here. Did you know? It can't be my fault. My hands were in gloves the whole time."

"It's mine," murmured the black haired man slowly, causing Grell to look up at him with worry in her eyes.

"What did you _do_ , you silly man?"

"I happened to step upon it when I was tidying the kitchen." Noticing the giggles that Grell was trying to hold back, William just shook his head, sighing. Why did his lovely redhead seem to delight in his pain and failures? He had no idea, but he was determined to find out why.

"You really are a silly man, aren't you?" Grell wondered, linking her fingers through with William's black gloved ones. "It's really not just a teasing thing to say. You really are rather ridiculous. Anyway, shush now, lovely. I need my beauty sleep, if I'm going to heal from this nightmare."

Gesturing to her face, she frowned, and William shook his head. He grabbed her hands and brought them down to her sides, reassuring her that she was beautiful. She blushed and smiled, before wriggling forwards a little, just enough to make room for him behind her. Lying down again, she rested upon his lap. William stroked her hair as she drifted off to sleep.

"Grell," William mumbled, halfway to sleep himself. "I don't really think you're a wretch. You're aware of this, correct?"

He felt Grell's head move a little, symbolising her giggles, though they themselves remained silent. Then, she just mumbled a little response.

"I know." A smile could be heard within her voice. "If you really meant it, you would have said something far worse than 'this wretch' to Sebas-chan."

 **Author's Note: So, there you have it. That was probably very OOC for Grell, but I thought that seeing as her head is swimming, her love appears to have just left her and she is very emotional at this time, it's not too far of a stretch. Even though Grell is my favourite character, along with Undertaker and William, I seem to be far better at writing William, Ronald, Alan and Eric. Anyway, hope you enjoyed, and have a nice day wherever you are.** **Oh, and my One Thousand Souls story is still being written, and I should have done the next chapter soon. It will be finished, I promise.**


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